Dances of the Snow
by malfunctionjunction
Summary: What does Penelope Garcia want for Christmas? Derek Morgan doesn't know, but he does know what she deserves. Written for the Christmas Exchange for the Chit Chat forums. Morgan/Garcia


**A/N:** This oneshot is for the Christmas Exchange Challenge for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner.

No specific Christmas song requested; bottle of wine, gift wrappers, and Christmas card.

**Disclaimer:** I do not and will never own Criminal Minds. I do not own the song "Let it Snow" written by Sammy Cahn.

* * *

_Oh the weather outside is frightful  
__But the fire is so delightful_

One hand raised and she paints a city in white.

Buildings, cars, and street corners are decorated in a costume of pearly, fluffy white. Twinkling from the sky above, she opened her mouth and closed her eyes. She didn't care about the possibilities; she didn't care about the consequences. Snowflakes fell onto her naked tongue, immediately melting into minuscule puddles, and she gagged on a giggle she tried to suppress. She twirled in a circle, and the snowflakes did too. In rotation of her body, they danced around her, beginning from her feet and flying upwards to her blonde, multicolored head.

Her glasses became wet with melted water, and chills ran from her stockings up to her legs. Nerves inside her brain told her to go inside, to where there was warmth and comfort, but she refused to leave the bundle of snow.

The tips of her fingers were turning a horrid shade of purple, and she was more than positive that her toes were doing the same. She enjoyed the scenery; she enjoyed the feelings erupting in her body from it all; she didn't want to leave, not now, not yet. She was going to go in, she was, once she was finished. Once she was ready, she was going to go inside.

"What are you doing?"

It was how the question was spoken that caused her to halt in her twirling. It was rushed, but it was a casual rush. There was no incredulity in it, only straight forwardness. He spoke with a calm that was natural to his character, and a small smirk appeared on his lips. Breath flew out of his mouth, and it came in her sight in physical form. A small, rounded ball of fresh breath floating effortlessly in cold air, soon, it dissolved into smaller pieces, becoming one with the cold air. Moving her eyesight away from the stars and the evaporating air, her gaze lingered on his, and a mischievous grin spread across her red lips.

"Isn't it obvious?" She purred loudly, "I'm playing in the snow."

He tilted his head, "Yeah, I can see that, but why?"

The question was lighthearted enough to take her off guard, and she pondered over it before responding with a bright, "Because I can!"

She proceeded to bounce like a snow rabbit towards him, her curls jiggling softly as she did so. In her slippers she could have easily slipped and injured herself, but her balance was overwhelming that she did it with ease, staring him directly in the eye.

"What 'cha got in the box my delicious, melting, chocolate, sundae, dynamite?" Her eyes sparkled behind her frames, and a crooked grin was the response she was given.

"Not much," he hummed, "but you have to get inside too see what it is."

Red lips pouted at the command, but her curiosity was larger than her desire. While the holidays were loved because of the temporary release of work, Derek Morgan had never been the jolly Saint Nick he could have been. The box wasn't decorated in vibrant colors; instead, it was a regular, bare box. Nothing spectacular, nothing unusual, but she had never been the type of woman to dismiss something because of appearances.

Her pout became more pronounced, and her hands went to her hips. "Fine," she snipped, "I'll go inside, but it better be worth it!"

"Yes," he dragged, "who would want to leave the bitter cold to rest comfortably in the warmth of their own home?"

She glared playfully at him. He merely shrugged and followed her upstairs.

The walk was brisk and short. He had followed her during the route many times before, but he was walking behind her this time, not beside her. She blocked his passage of a race opportunity, and he rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. They made it to her room, and with a tip of her finger she opened the door, and stepped in. Immediately following into her home, he felt an embrace of warmth flooding into his nostrils and body. He didn't understand why she wanted to stay outside in the cold.

"Penelope..."

"Derek..."

He couldn't hide the amazement in his voice, "Girl, this place is torn up. What have you been doing in here?"

"If you must know, good sir," she said in a fake British accent, "I've been preparing for Christmas. What have you been doing?"

Indeed, her home was a mess. The amount of gift wraps sprawled across the floor, the tables, and the cabinets were ridiculous. Never in his life had he seen a home decorated to such an extent for the holidays. Colors of silver, red, and green were placed in various parts of the walls and candy canes had stolen the vases from the flowers.

"You really have been preparing for the holidays."

"Of course I have!" She made her way through fallen scraps of gift wrap and lights to the Christmas tree that sat near the window, "It's one of my favorite days of the year, you know, besides my birthday and Labor Day."

"Labor Day?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" She chuckled, "It's the sign that autumn has finally arrived, and winter is only around the corner."

Gingerly, she toyed with the ornaments dangling from the tree. Her eyes stared deeply into them, and a knowing suspicion told him that she was going to cry. Her wistful expression melted away when she remembered she had a guest, and a small smile appeared on her face, "What's in the box, darling?"

He knew it was a sign of dismissal of an impending question, and he accepted it with a skeptical eye. Stepping into the kitchen, he placed the box safely on the table, and grabbed a nearby knife. She stepped to his side and watched silently as he swiftly removed the strong, clear tape from the box. Hands working quickly and strongly tore cardboard into halves and fourths, and his focus was glued on the task he was doing. She inched close to him, her eyes glowing as the object became more apparent in the light. Disbelief washed on her face, and she turned to him, eyes still glowing.

"Oh Derek, you didn't."

He laughed, "Just for you."

"Yay!"

Unwittingly, she shoved him out of the way, forcing the knife from his grip and falling onto the floor. She hastily removed the remaining pieces of tape and cardboard, eyes sparkling at the bottle of wine sitting safely in the middle of the box.

"Derek," she was speechless, "it's so...so...thank you."

"Anything for you, Baby Girl." He smiled his trademark grin and wrapped her in a strong hug, the wine bottle stuck in between them.

It was after they were snuggled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket that she looked him straight in the eye and asked what brought the sudden urge of wine and celebration.

* * *

"I couldn't make it to my mom's this year," he mused aloud, "the weather had gotten worse over night."

"So...you thought you could use me as a back up plan?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head, "Nah, nothing like that. I already had this planned, just didn't know how to execute. So I just did it."

"You just did it?"

"Why not? It was the perfect timing, and if I didn't do it now, then I wouldn't have done it at all."

Her frowning face turned into a smiling one, and she snuggled closer to him, "I'm glad that you did."

"I am too. I paid good money for that wine." He kissed her forehead, "But what I would like to know, Miss Snoopy Nose, was why you were playing outside in the freezing, bitter, cold as hell snow?"

"You're supposed to be the all knowing profiler," she giggled and then she sighed sadly, "but if you must know-I used to do it all the time when I was a kid, with my parents."

He didn't have to see her expression to imagine it. He knew memories spent with her family during the holidays had already began to spur in her eyes since November. It was only because he too had to deal with similar memories. A empathetic smile grew on his face, and he pulled her closer to him.

"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas time."

"That's deep." She breathed into his neck, "Where'd ya get it?"

"Christmas card, the one I gave you the other day." He gave her a funny look that read "Didn't you read it?"

"I...sorry," she laughed airily, "I meant to, but I got caught up with presents. You know ordering the original Stark Trek series isn't easy, finding a Wii on discout, and a light up Christmas tie isn't easy as I thought it would be."

"Star Trek is for Reid-you bought the entire series?"

"Yep."

"Wii is obviously for Henry, J.J., and Will."

"Absolutely."

"But a light up Christmas tie?"

"Now, that's one for Hotch. He never has anything bright to wear, so next year, he can have something decorative. Don't worry, all he has to do is press a button and it sings Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer in bright, shiny, Christmas lights."

"Is it black?"

"Only when it isn't on."

Penelope manueareved her arm out of the warmth of the blanket and searched for the dimissed Christmas card on the living room stand. Patting her hand on the glass, she smiled wrly when her fingers tapped the confetti decorated on the card. Using one hand, she grabbed it closer and read it aloud again, "Laura Ingalls Wilder...you cheeky jerk."

He shrugged, "I did say I got it from a Christmas Card."

"It would be the glorious Mrs. Wilder to understand how it feels to yearn for childhood. Don't you?"

"Only when I remember the good times, with my Dad and Mom, my sisters. That's the only time when I yearn for childhood, but it's gone and so is my dad."

His words should've dampened the mood, but Penelope simply turned the other way into the snowy window. "So are my parents, but they're not gone...not really, I've alway felt that if we choose to remember them, then well, they're not gone completely."

"Do you really believe that?"

Her eyes gazed upward to him, "If I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to move once they were gone."

The room went quiet, but the atmosphere didn't change. He didn't mean to, but his grip around her tightened, and he leaned closer downwards. In motion to his movements, she leaned closer to him, upwards. Their lips were only inches apart, and gently they brushed against each other, itching to close the gap. Something pulled them apart, and they stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

When neither moved, they smiled instead, laughed and laughed. Their embrace became deeper, stronger.

"If only there was a mistletoe," she breathed through her laughs, "if only."

"Yeah, if only." An idea came to him, in the rush of things, he felt stupid for not seeing it earlier. The wine, the card, and the unexpected visit was all good and dandy, but Derek Morgan knew something would make Penelope Garcia shine brighter than she was already shining. Without delay, he flung the blanket off them, lettting it fall to the floor. In his excitement he began patting and tickling her, "Alright Girl, get up!"

"What are you doing!" She laughed between breaths, swatting his furious hands away as she laughed, "Derek!"

"We're going out dancing, right now. Get dressed, put on your boots, I'll get the Ipod."

The meaning of his antics began to sink in and her mouth opened a little, "You're not serious. Are you?"

"Yes I am, ma'am." He searched for his shoes and coat, "You and I are going out to play in the snow. We're going to make snow angels, snowmen, dancing, whatever you want to do."

She stood watching him. He hurried around her home, zipping up his jacket, locating his boots. Silently, after several moments, she went into her bedroom to gather her clothes and boots as well. None of this was expected, but she wasn't going to complain. She found her Ipod, loud enough for the two of them, and the rest of her clothing that she failed to wear earlier.

"I hope Kevin doesn't mind...," he chuckled absentmindley, "how has he been doing?"

"He's been great since the break up." She laughed, "But we do have our occasional movie nights."

Derek gave her a sidelong glance, but he didn't say anything of it. "Ready?"

She reentered the room, fully and appropiately dressed. She held her Ipod Touch in one hand, fingers twitching to play the Christmas tunes she downloaded from Itunes. "Yes sir!"

Their arms locked into one another, and they descended the stairs to play and dance in the snow.

"What did you buy Prentiss and Rossi?"

"Oh them...," she rolled a snowball and aimed, hitting him on the side of his head, "Emily received a very lovely gift basket from Victoria's secret."

He rubbed the side of his head, "They do that?"

"I know some people," she threw another snowball, hitting him close to his sacred area but missing it by an inch or so, "Dave and I, well, I can't really explain but we have a coupon thing going on."

He opened his mouth to question what she meant, but a hurling snowball that made contact wit his face, sending him flying into his snow fort shot his question into thin air.

"You have one hell of an arm," he said when she approached his fallen body, her hand reaching out to him, "where did you learn?"

"Ten hours straight of Wii Tennis and Baseball does that to you," she giggled, "can we dance now?"

He clasped onto her mitten claded hand. Their combined strength helped him up, and he wrapped his arms loving around them. Instantly, the music began to play, but in the mist of things, they really didn't hear it. The snow started to twirl in the wind, rising from their feet to the top of their heads, tickling their ears. The music contined to play along with their dancing and the falling snow.

It didn't suprise them in the least that the song strangely suited the situation at hand.

_The fire is slowly dying,  
And, my dear, we're still good-bying,  
But as long as you love me so,  
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!_

* * *

**A/N:** This is it. I hope mygirl911 enjoyed it, and I hope anyone else who has read it enjoyed it as well. It is the holidays, and the perfect Christmas gift I can receive is a review or two from you!

I know what Rossi's gift is, but you can guess what it is. Why would Rossi need a coupon? A joke between Rossi and Garcia.

Again, I wish you a Merry Christmas, eggnog filled and presents galore, and a Happy New Year!


End file.
